Why?
by nothinbuttherain
Summary: <html><head></head>MayWard oneshot set somewhere in season 2, post episode 3. Expecting Skye, Ward is surprised to find May waiting for him behind the barriers. "I want you to say it." She tells him, her voice as steady as she can make it but something stirring behind it, something making it shake slightly, despite her best efforts, "I want you to look me in the eye and I want you to tell me why."</html>


The opaque barrier in front of him dissolved. He pushed himself off of the bed and braced himself to face Skye again, blinking in surprise when he realised that it wasn't her.

Instead, it's the last person he'd thought would come to see him down here. May.

She looks calm and composed as always. Her usual self. If a little darker, a little more worn. But they all look like that. Who knows what she sees when she looks at him. There's nothing about her exterior that betrays any thoughts or feelings that the sight of him might have provoked. She's as implacable and as ambiguous as she always has been.

It was always something that bothered him before. He'd been given orders to watch his new team, get close to them, yes, make them trust him, but also to gather information. Take their temperatures. Find out what made them tick. And he had done his job well, followed his orders to the best of his ability.

But there had always been something about her that remained an enigma to him. The more he learned the less he knew it seemed. She intrigued him and challenged him all at once. He had missed that, he realised now. It had become less about his mission and more about _her_ the longer he had spent with her.

He studies her. Looking for a ripple in the smooth surface of her composure. There's nothing. She looks as calm as if she were doing nothing more strenuous then relaxing with a book in bed after a long day. But he knows better. He may not know everything. But he knows enough. Enough to know where to look. To see the fire dancing in her eyes as they meet his. Though the emotion behind them is as unreadable as her expression, but he sees her.

And from the way she's looking at him now she sees him too. She knows him too. Better than either of them would like to admit.

He's not seen her since she sent him down here. Since their last fight. He kept expecting her. When Skye first showed up and began to question him he expected that he would see May as well. She was a good interrogator. He thought that they would send her down here as a dark to Skye's light but they never had. Even when Fitz came. There had still been no May. Yet here she was no. And as far as he could tell without provocation. They didn't seem to have a mission on the go at the moment. And he was trying to fathom her motives for this visit. But coming up empty. He would just have to wait until she told him.

She stood watching him with a measured look. And he watched her back. And they stood for the longest time. Their eyes locked. Their minds running fast. Like two chess players sat opposite a board. Waiting for their opponent's move to base their own off, neither wanting to make a play first and set the terms of their game.

It got to the point where he wondered if this was all she wanted. To come down here and watch him, to see him like this, cornered and beaten. That she would turn and leave him to himself without a word or an explanation for any of this and leave him alone and guessing in the silence for hours to come. But then she spoke.

"Can I trust you?" She asked simply.

He stared at her. Shocked and more confused than ever. "What?" He demanded. She repeated the question calmly. "Is this a trick?" He demanded, crossing his arms defensively over his chest, staring her down, trying to judge her.

"No." She replied, smoothly, her face as impassive as ever, "A question. With a simple answer. Can I trust you? Yes or no?"

"Trust me? With what?" He asked, narrowing his eyes, still sure that he was missing something here.

"Not to do anything stupid." She said quietly.

"How can I?" He demanded, with a short, humourless laugh. She widened her eyes significantly at him. He shrugged, "Yes." He told her finally, "You can trust me not to do anything stupid, May." Her eyes flashed slightly at the sound of her name.

But she nodded. As though he had passed some kind of test. She bent her head over the tablet in her hand again and a few seconds later, the barrier between them vanished entirely, nothing between them now but air and constantly sparking tension.

He gaped at her. Then swallowed, shifting uncomfortably on the spot, not moving, "What are you doing?" He asked, throat dry.

"I'm going for a walk." She said, turning her back on him and moving a few paces away, "You can come if you like."

He hovers uncertainly, still bound by an invisible wall that exists only in his head. That he's sure is still there. That she's waiting, for an excuse, for him to give her the chance to...To what? He doesn't know. Still he hesitates.

"You don't have to." She tells him. Her voice is almost gentle.

"Where's Skye?" He asks, playing for time, not wanting to ask her directly why she's here but she seems to sense that that's what he wants to know.

"Not here." She tells him evasively, "None of them are. It's just you and me." There's no venom in her voice. No threat in her bearing. Simple statement and fact. And he trusts that. For whatever reason. He trusts it. Trusts her.

"This isn't an authorised visit, is it?" He asks shrewdly, watching her reaction.

She shrugs evenly. "No-one said I couldn't. And you won't tell them, will you?" She asks.

He decides not to answer her, still uncertain about the whole situation."What do you want?" He asks, trusting her a little more, but not enough to leave the relative safety of familiarity and throw himself into the unknown, however tempting it may be.

"Company." She suggests vaguely, her eyes meeting his again, something strange stirring in them.

He blinks at her. "Why are you doing this?" He demands, his voice shaking slightly, deciding that her answer to this will determine his actions.

There's nothing protecting her from him. Nothing but her own body, which he knows is enough. But he could still do a considerable amount of damage to her if he chose to. But he doesn't. They stand there. Frozen in their moment of time. Wanting to trust but not entirely certain that they do. Equally wary of and intrigued by each other.

She turns to him to face him fully instead of over her shoulder. Her voice softening as she says, very quietly, "I've been held hostage too, Ward." The use of his name relaxes him somewhat, it feels almost intimate, in a strange way, like she's trying to connect with him. And maybe she is. She chooses her next words carefully, "I thought you might appreciate a change of scenery."

He would. More than anything. She knows that. She knows because she empathises he realises.

He makes a decision in a second, on an impulse and steps forwards, crossing the line the barrier usually prevents him from crossing. Nothing happens. He relaxes. Walks slowly towards her. She doesn't move, waiting for him to draw level with her.

He watches her, still puzzled.

"I could kill you." He says softly. It's not a threat. More of a curiosity at why she's doing this, why she's taking such a risk and what she hopes to get out of it.

Something like a smile tugs at her lips for a moment as she answers wryly, "You could try."

For whatever reason, her answer calms him. He nods, lowering his eyes, a smile daring to ghost across his lips for a moment.

"A walk?" He says slowly.

She nods. And leads. As she always has done. He follows her through a side door along a set of corridors to an exit door. He glances sideways at her. She opens it and leads him outside. Really outside. He closes his eyes, takes several deep, slow breaths, exulting in the sweet, fresh air that surrounds him.

She sets off at a slow pace, letting him keep up and keep pace with her, getting used to using his legs for walking again. "You're not afraid I'll run off?" He demands, "That you'll get blamed for losing SHIELD's most important asset?"

She shakes her head, stopping to pick up a small stone at her feet and throwing it about ten feet to her left where it bounces off of an electric fence that surrounds them, "There's nowhere for you to go." She answers.

He nods, still not clear on why she's doing any of this. "Why?" He asked again, grateful, but still uncertain, particularly given their last encounter she had done nothing but give him the idea that she would have liked nothing more than to see him dead for what he'd done to her and her team.

"That's what I wanted to ask you." She said slowly, turning to look up at him, "Why?"

"You know why." He says dismissively, shaking his head.

She moves to stand in front of him, stopping him from moving forward without touching him. "I want you to say it." She tells him, her voice as steady as she can make it but something stirring behind it, something making it shake slightly, despite her best efforts, "I want you to look me in the eye and I want you to tell me why."

He pauses. Both of them breathing hard though they've barely walked a hundred yards from the door. He does as she asks. Decides he owes her that much. Of all of them, he was most intimate with her. Whatever he told Garrett, or himself, about their relationship, there had been something there that he hadn't expected to feel. A vulnerability and an intimacy that he had never anticipated with her. But it had been there. And he decided now that she deserved to hear his truth under her terms.

He met her eyes then said softly, "I had my orders. I carried them out." Her body is tensed and he can tell that she's not happy with his answer, though it was one that he thought she of all people would understand.

"And it was really that easy?" She breathes quietly.

"You've been undercover." He says quietly, "You've gotten close to people you knew were targets, you knew that you'd have to turn on in a moment's notice if you got the call. You've done things you're not proud of because whoever was in command decided that it was a good idea. You've lied to people. You've pretended to be something that you're not to survive. You've done everything that I did before."

"Don't try and tell me that what I've done is the same thing as what you did." She snarls, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"No." He says quickly, "But you understand." He tells her, "Of everyone on that bus, you understand. You understand what that takes. The lying and the deceit. Playing a role. Knowing that your life depends on how well you do that. Turning on people that you trusted and that trusted you because you have to. And you know that it's anything but easy."

He's breathing hard. And she's calm once more. But she nods curtly. Not quite approval. But something more valuable. Understanding.

"You knew that." He said quietly. It's not a question.

"I needed to hear you say it." She tells him softly.

He nods. They begin walking again. In silence. It reminds him of how things were before. What feels like a thousand years ago. They enjoyed one another's company. He never felt pressured to find something to say around her, to keep up a flow of conversation. She never wanted it. Nor did he. They could train in silence. They could sit for hours after work with different drinks in their hands, mulling over what had happened, communicating in only quiet looks and soft, guarded touches and nothing more. He feels himself missing that.

"Melinda." He begins daringly, half-expecting her to shut him down, to tell him he's going too far and over-stepping some boundaries. But she doesn't. So he proceeds, "What happened between us. The relationship we had that-"

"I understand." She tells him curtly, her body stiff, not looking at him, "You had your orders."

"No." He says. He steps in front of her this time, stopping her. She reflexively shifts into stance, watching him, tense. He raises his hands and backs off a few steps, his movements slow and controlled, "No, it wasn't, it wasn't like that." He tells her, shaking his head.

"You saw an opportunity and you took it." She says coldly, "I understand perfectly.

"You were more than an opportunity, Melinda." He says quietly, watching her freeze because of the way he says her name. The way he used to say it. Tenderly. With more intimacy than he had any right to. "And you were more than a mission and a set of orders." He says gently. He takes a tentative step forwards that she doesn't oppose, "What we had-" He began softly.

"We had nothing." She snaps at him, shaking her head, "We had sex, Ward." She says coldly, "Built on lies and manipulation and that's the truth."

"That's your truth." He murmurs, "That's what's easiest to tell yourself. To think to let yourself deal with it. But it's not what happened and you know that."

"Stop it." She snarls at him, glaring at him now, a strange emotion that he can't quite place stirring in her eyes.

"I'm not lying to you anymore, Melinda." He says quietly. "I've got no reason to." He says, "I just want you to understand that I...I wasn't using you like that. It, the idea started like that." He confesses to her, fumbling with his words.

He's not sure why he's telling her this. Not sure why it's so important to him that she understands. What does it matter really what he thinks? At the end of the day she goes back to work and he goes back to his cage and it doesn't make a damned bit of difference. Only it does. And he needs her to know. For whatever reason he needs her to know this and to understand it.

"But the way we started. After that assignment with the Beserker staff...It still keeps me awake some nights. What it did to me. It still..It's still hard to handle sometimes." Her eyes flicker towards his for a second, only a second, a stolen glance that he feels almost wrong in sharing, but it's enough to tell her that she understands, that she knows what he's talking about "And that night that we had. It. It meant something." He says finally, "To me. Just to me. And not...Not a lot of things that have happened in my life have been just for me. They've been for Garrett, for my family, for my fear. But that. That was me. That was me and you and nothing else."

"You said that that was for Garrett. That it wasn't...That you were told...That it was to keep me on your side." She says finally, her eyes hard and cold.

"Would you have believed me if I had told you the truth then?" He asks softly, "Would anyone have believed that? Would they even have listened to me? They didn't want me to be a human being who was doing the only thing they thought they could. They wanted me to be a monster. They wanted me to take their guilt and their blame and shoulder all of it so they didn't have to. They didn't want to hear that I...That I needed someone. That I needed you." He says finally, watching her expression shift curiously at his words. "You didn't want to hear it. And I didn't want to say it." He concludes at last.

"But you're saying it now." She whispers.

"I'm saying it now." He agrees quietly.

"Why?" She asks finally.

"Because you deserve the truth." He answers after a moment to consider this.

She says nothing else. And doesn't invite him to say anything else. He's had his chance. Said his piece. He has to be happy with that for now. He's not sure why that came spilling out of him. But there's always been something about this woman, she's always had an effect on him that he could never understand or explain. He's always found his covers and his masks slipping with her, as though she can see through them. Their a habit. A defence and a protection. And it feels sometimes as though she can see through them anyway. And other times it just feels like he doesn't need them with her. But he was always sharing too much with her. Some things don't change, it seems.

She walks him back round to the door and he doesn't protest when she makes him go ahead of him through the narrow hallway and back into the room that holds his cell. He turns to her. Knowing that whatever this was is coming to an end.

He lightly brushes his fingers against the hand at her side. She jerks away from him reflexively. He had expected her to. And was not surprised. But she didn't comment on the gesture and he repeated it, to make his intentions clear. And she allowed the momentary touch this time, his eyes meeting hers again.

She shifted, her position becoming that of a soldier once more and he understands what she wants. He returns to his cell and sits on the edge of the bed while she replaces the barriers that keep him in place, though she leaves the screen open for them to talk to one another still.

"Thank you." He says finally.

She nods stiffly, "This doesn't mean I forgive you." She says curtly, "Not even close." She tells him firmly, "Or that I've forgotten any of the things that you've done."

"I know." He answers quietly.

She nods, "Then you're welcome." She concedes finally, dipping her head in acknowledgement. She turns to leave and then changes her mind, turning back and saying slowly, "Thank you for being honest with me." She murmurs.

"You're welcome." He answers softly, hoping that she does believe that he was being honest with her, and doesn't assume that he was trying to manipulate her, though he would understand if she did.

"This will stay between us?" She says firmly. It's not really a question. But he answers anyway.

"The same as before." He answers softly, alluding to the relationship that had stayed between them until she had chosen to tell Coulson. Her eyes flash and he lowers his, thinking that he's finally pushed his luck too far with her, "Yes." He says sincerely at last, "It'll stay between us."

"Good." She says flatly, her smooth composure returning in an instant as she turns on her heel and makes to move away from him.

"Will I see you again?" He asks as she leaves.

She considers this, then, "Perhaps."

She leaves without another word and the flat, oppressive white screen slides between them once more. He lies back down on the bed, closing his eyes.

He realises that, despite everything that's happened, the time that's past, the time that he's spent with her and against her he still has no idea where he stands with her. And she's still the most unpredictable member of this team and this organisation as a whole. Her motivations are entirely her own and she shares them with nothing else.

And he stands by what he's always thought before. That no-one knows what's in Melinda May's head other than Melinda May. And that's unlikely to change.

He does see her again though. She returns a few days later. She doesn't stay for as long and doesn't remove the barrier between them. But she stays and she talks for a few minutes. And he gets the impression that this is another unauthorised visit.

And it becomes something of a habit. In some ways, she's nothing if not routine. And she develops a routine with him. He begins to be able to predict her visits almost down to a minute. It's nice. He likes routine and order. And she certainly provides both.

It's something that he begins to almost look forward to. Because while he still can't understand why she's doing this he appreciates it all the same. Maybe it is as she says, that she's been held hostage before and understands and empathises with his situation. Maybe she's biding her time to trade in these little moments between them for information. More than likely it makes perfect sense to her. She has her reasons behind it. And sees no reason to share them with him or anyone else.

He stops questioning her. She indulges him in a game of chess. The board and the lay of the pieces set up and held between visits in their minds. It was a memory and a logic technique that was taught at SHIELD and had factored into both of their training. And it was something they used to do before as well. Something that he knew she enjoyed. And it gave him something else to think about.

She was using this to understand him, he decided. It was a good practice. If you understood the way the game was played, as they both did, and knew what to look for in a person's decisions it could tell you a lot about them. She was profiling him in that way. But there was something else in her visits. Something that she seemed to enjoy simply for herself.

And someday he thought that would stop. Whatever it was that brought her down here to see him would stop. And when that time came she wouldn't tell him. She would just leave as normal. Only she wouldn't come back. And he was sure that that day would come. But until it did. He waited for her. And something like happiness flickered in him when he saw her behind his barrier again, a faint, triumphant smile playing about her lips as she set her knight to destroying his castle, and he had no wish for this to end.

A/N: I'm not really sure what prompted this, but a scene between May and Ward is something that I'd like to see though I'm doubtful if we'll get in the show so we have this now. As for my other fic I am halfway through a new chapter with that. I know it's been ages since I've posted anything to it, the hiatus killed my muse but there's just something about this pairing that won't let me go so expect another update for that at some point in the future if there's anything left of this fandom to read it. As always, thank you for reading and your feedback is very much appreciated.


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